The Year of our Lord 1728 - London, England

A bang echoed throughout the Sterenger house, a once warm residence now filled with an unearthly chill. The woman of the house; Mrs. Sterenger, and her daughter, sat on a bench by the blazing fire, covered in thick blankets, Mrs. Sterenger glancing over towards the guard that had been posted in her house. They could barely move as they sat there, their breath hanging in front of them, a strange sight in midsummer.

A man in a black coat came trampling down the steps, clutching a small Crucifix tightly in his hand.

Mrs. Sterenger stood up, watching as the man came hurrying down the steps. She knew he was wrong in his thinking; such nonsensical fairy tales. He only wanted to instill fear in her; some Church operative. She shuddered and quickly wrapped the blanket around herself.

"When will these damned guards be able to leave?" she said, shivering.

"When your son has grown stable," said the man in the black coat, "You are not safe while he is in this state."

"Is it what I thought, Mister Helfer?" she said, shivering.

"I am afraid not. Your son has not been afflicted with any mental illness, nor has he been attacked by a physical entity."

"What is it, then?!" she said, her hands trembling.

"It is as I originally feared. My apprentice, Ethan is just outside. He may be needed to help the Father," said Mr. Helfer, placing the Crucifix around his neck.

"Who's the Father, Mommy?" said the little girl, tugging at her cloak.

"What do you mean, 'the Father'?" said Mrs. Sterenger, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN?! MY SON IS NOT POSSESSED!"

"I'm afraid he is, Madam. And we can do nothing to help him but pray and let God's servant do what is needed."

Mister Helfer began walking towards the door, when she lunged out of her seat.

Immediately, the guards sprung into action, grabbing hold of she struggled fiercely, with her arms flailing about wildly.


"I'm afraid that it needs to be done," said Mister Helfer calmly, opening the door. He stepped onto the soft dirt path that lead up to the door. Ethan had been sitting on a flat-topped rock beside the path, apparently, having passed the time fidgeting.

"What is it?" he asked, "Is the boy possessed?"

"This is no child," Mister Helfer responded with a blank stare, "Not a child at all. He's seventeen, only a few years younger than yourself, Ethan. With the creature inside him, he may very well match you physically. With luck, you will not be needed tonight."

"Sir, I've faced some pretty powerful things, I'm sure I can handle it at very least."

"No, Ethan. That is a mistake you must never make. There is not one man who can handle what is going on inside this house, not one. The most experienced exorcist cannot easily face what has taken that boy. The devil knows your mind, your thoughts, your desires, and your fears. He will use them separately, and together to bring you down and poison you against God. Ah, Father Treiben, Brother Matthew."

Father Treiben hobbled up through the front gate with his bag in hand, upon which was the mark of the Cross. Brother Matthews, who seemed to be only a few years older than Ethan, came in after him.

"What is the case, Abraham?" said Father Treiben, looking over the face of the house.

"It is, indeed, as I first thought, Demetrius. The boy is possessed."

"Then we must do what God asks of us," said the Father, walking into the house and making the Sign of the Cross.

Mister Helfer watched as Brother Matthews and Father Treiben entered the house, and then attempted to make his entrance.

"Sir," said Ethan, "should I be present in the room during the ritual?"

"No," said Mister Helfer, "I shall call if we are in need of assistance. But remember, this night you may face the most horrible foe you could ever encounter. He is the master of deception."

"Are you sure you don't want me in there?"

"Ethan, this creature deceived and tempted even the angels themselves. His power will be far too much for any of us to handle; most particularly you. Listen to not a word that passes through his mouth; for every word is meant to deceive. He shall tell even the truth, but may twist it."

Inside, Father Treiben dressed up in his vestments, and kissed his stole before wrapping it around his neck. Ethan placed the Crucifix around the priest's neck, when a hellish screech echoed from the upstairs.

"We shall say a blessing," said Father Treiben as he began to walk up the stairs. He noticed a broken painting of the Archangel Michael covered in human vomit; a repulsing sight if there ever was one.

"Lord, bless this house and all who enter here," he said, spraying holy water, "Save us, O God, by Thy Name. Give us light where there is darkness. Lord have mercy."

"Lord have mercy," Brother Matthews answered, shaking as they approached the bedroom.

"Christ have mercy," said Father Treiben, his foot creaking across the floorboard as they approached the room.

"Christ have mercy," responded Brother Matthews.

"The Lord be with you," spoke the Father again. They had stopped at the door, where he made the Sign of the Cross and entered.

"And also with you," said Brother Matthews, walking in behind him.

Upon entering, Brother Matthews gasped in a bitter breath of air. The boy lie chained to the bed, staring coldly into his eyes. The blood strewn on his mouth did not help the monk's sense of unease, nor did the glossy sweat seeping into his face, scarred by deep gashes.

Father Treiben approached the bed, blessing himself with Holy water, and sprinkling the boy with a few drops, eliciting a violent growl. He placed his hand upon the possessed one's head, pushing him back down upon the bed with no struggle.

"What is the boy's name?" he asked Mister Helfer, still standing in the door.

Mister Helfer's eyes must have been deceiving him. Only moments ago, the boy had only been growling violently in an unearthly voice. But he hadn't looked like this.
Mister Helfer looked more closely at the head of the bed, and it's sharp edges. Before, it was clean, made a mess only by dust. Now, rivulets of blood ran down the sides. This beast must have thrashed the boy's face against it with great strength to create the cuts present on his face.

"What is his name, Abraham?" said Father Treiben.

"His name's Ama...Amade...Amadeus Mich...Michael Noten."

"Put that away," said the boy in a voice more horrible than before. This voice seemed not to be produced by any human capacity. It came from his gut.

"I will," said Father Treiben calmly, "but only after I do what I have to. You can help me out. But first, you have to tell me your name, so we can be properly introduced. I am Father Demetrius Treiben. And you?"

"That asshole just gave you my name!"

"Your name is Amadeus as well?" he said, leaning over and taking his prayer book from his bag, "Well, Amadeus means 'he who loves God'. It is good that you love God, because then we are-"

"Well I don't, so no."

"Why do you not love God?" said Father Treiben, screwing the cap onto the bottle of Holy water, "What ever has He done to you?"

"What an excellent day for an exorcism," the beast laughed.

"What do you mean?" said Father Treiben, puzzled.

"Nothing...just my own little joke. Now please, Father, help me to get out of this bed. These chains are most constricting."

"May Almighty God forgive us our sins and lead us unto everlasting life," began Father Treiben, sprinkling Brother Matthews and himself with Holy water, "The Lord be with you."

"And also with you."

"Not with me, though." Said the beast with a laugh.

Father Treiben responded by sprinkling him lightly with Holy water, bringing out another, more violent growl than before.

"I exorcise you, most vile spirit, the very embodiment of our enemy, the entire specter, the whole legion, in the Name of Jesus Christ, to get out and flee from this creature of God," he said, making the Sign of the Cross over the possessed.

"He Himself commands you," said Brother Matthews, " Who has ordered those cast down from the heights of heaven to the depths of the earth. He commands you; He Who commanded the sea, the winds, and the tempests."

"Why do you not heed your own command, worthless bastard!" The demon snapped.

Despite this, Father Treiben continued, "Hear therefore and fear, O Satan, enemy of the faith, foe to the human race, root of evils, procurer of sorrows. Why do you stand and resist, when you know that Christ the Lord will destroy your strength?"

"You know, that's a well-thought out, organized query, Priest. Now I have one for you. Why do you stand here a priest when you know that you lust after this human shell's mother? Is that not a sin? Answer me faggot!"

"Do not listen to him, Thomas. He only wishes to cause mistrust," said Father Treiben, turning back to the boy, "BE GONE FROM THIS SERVANT OF THE LORD!"


"Be silent!" shouted Father Treiben, again sprinkling Holy water. He lifted his stole from around his neck, and pressed it against the possessed one's forehead.


"Accursed beast, why do you linger when you know you cannot stand against Almighty God?!"


"Fall silent and be gone!" Father Treiben shouted over the demon's growling as Brother Matthews sent a stream of Holy water down onto the boy.

The priest stood for a moment, and watched as the beast settled back into the bed.

"What is your name, beast?" said Brother Matthews.

"I be one of ancient's past. My existence predates the first of your kind-"

Father Treiben sprayed the beast with Holy water again, "Do not toy with me!" he shouted, "It is not my command you heed, but that of the Lord Who casts you out! In His Name I command you, answer!"

"Loof dlo wonk reven lliw uoy taht seman ynam evah I!"

"What is your name?! I command you, in the Name of the Lord, answer!"

"Rebiclum! Suyetni! Eramretni!"

"What is it saying, Father?" Brother Matthews shouted over the growls now echoing out from the demon's mouth.

"He is telling the truth, I feel," said Father Treiben, "But there is something he has changed."

"Father, would you kindly shut your noise hole?!"

"Be still!" Father Treiben commanded, making the Sign of the Cross over the boy, causing the beast in him to collapse back onto the bed.

Brother Matthews looked on in horror as blood seeped down from the beast's ears, and streamed from his eyes like tears.

"You...Thomas," said the demon solemnly, "You'll be rotting in hell before the sun rises. Just like your miserable brother. How old was the rat? Seven? Why do you think he is dead? Could not your God have done something to save him? matter, though I have watched him squeal in hellish terror on more than one occasion. Why then, do your God a service? Let this corpse go back to where it came from. Ashes to ashes, Thomas."

"Do not listen Thomas," said Father Treiben, noticing the rage in Brother Matthews' eyes, afraid that, at any moment, he might lunge at the beast, "You, creature, are accused by Almighty God, whose statues you have transgressed. You are accused by His Son, Jesus Christ, our Lord, Whom you dared to tempt and presume to crucify. You are accused by the human race, to whom by the persuasion you have given to drink the poison of death."


"Glorious God commands you," he said, making the Sign of the Cross, "The Majestic Christ commands you. The Immaculate Virgin commands you-"


Father Treiben continued despite the outburst, "The devout Saints command you...The blessed angels command you...The prayers of the faithful command you... The blood of the martyrs commands you...In God's Name, I command you: depart!"


"It is your abode. Why do you not return from whence you came?!" said Father Treiben, "I command you, in the Name of Jesus Christ, our Lord and God, be gone from His servant, Amadeus Michael Noten."


"Be gone from this child, unclean spirit!" shouted Brother Matthews angrily, throwing his hand forward, sending out a stream of Holy water, "You have no power against this child, nor the Church, which shall stand against the gates of hell itself and prevail! In the Name and by the power of the Almighty Father, Who hath condemned you to the everlasting fire-"

"Brother," said the demon, "Would you like to see a trick?"

Brother Matthews began to choke, and grasped at his neck. A strong set of rusty links constricted his breathing.

He looked up, across the chains. The blood was trapped in his head, feeling as though, any second; he would explode.

The chain was broken. The demon was free.